


while we can

by AkumaStrife



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: M/M, something soft and wary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-10
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2019-03-03 07:13:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13336128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AkumaStrife/pseuds/AkumaStrife
Summary: One of the most important, and hardest, parts of being dead is finding an anchor to stay tethered





	while we can

He gets stuck in these loops sometimes. Doing an action over and over, and there's a part of him that knows it's bad, but he can't stop. Sometimes it's dying. Sometimes it's looking deep into one of his friends' eyes and urging them something important he can barely remember later. Sometimes it’s waking up with a jolt without ever having been asleep, and scrambling to go find Whelk (sometimes Ronan or Adam will stop him; sometimes he makes it halfway before _remembering_ and sits down wherever he is for hours, remembering and remembering and _remembering_.)

Sometimes it's like now: he picks up the glitter globe, turns it over to get it going, watches it begin to settle, and sets it down.

And then he starts again, just now noticing it and wants to shake it before wandering away. But he never quite makes it.

"You're freaking me out, man," Ronan snips, playing at aggressive when his tone is nothing but wary.

"Oh," Noah says. He looks at the globe. Shakes his head and looks again, but it's just a nicknack, just a nice present, and not as magnetic as it had been a moment ago. "Sorry."

"S'okay," Ronan says, dismissive. He's busy feeding scraps of food to Chainsaw and laughing too loud at the way she flings the stuff she doesn't like onto the floor. It's going to teach her bad habits, but neither of them care about that, and Noah's started sneaking her everyone else's food in exchange for the little shiny bits she brings him.

He likes them, sure, but he mostly collects it because it seems to make everyone else happy. That he still retains some humanity, some human habits. He decorates the empty room that Gansey still insists is his with sparkling stones and little figurines, string lights that he always forgets to unplug, everyone else’s things they want to keep but don’t have room for. It’s a storage room mostly, for memories and pretty things, things that don’t really belong here anymore but no one can bring themselves to throw out. He fits right in.

The glitter globe, though, he keeps in Ronan’s room. Not because he consciously decided to, but he keeps forgetting it in there, and then whenever Ronan yells at him to come get it, he usually gets distracted by it, or something else in the mysterious clutter that is a Dreamer’s room. So there it stays, and most days that’s where Noah stays too.

The storage/Noah Czerny room is lonely and too quiet; Ronan’s is teaming with a strange energy and filled with other things half-alive and out of place, not supposed to exist but do anyway for the sole reason that Ronan wanted them to. He fits right in.

He turns over the globe again. Watches the glitter swirl and rise. Watches the glitter drift and slow, falling lethargic to the bottom. Whatever it is inside him that keeps him existing begins to slow and settle in the same way.

“The fuck did I say,” Ronan says. He yanks Noah’s hand away, yanks the globe away and puts it over on a low bookshelf overflowing with everything but books.

“Sorry.”

Chainsaw squawks something like laughter.

When things stretch too quiet and Noah looks up, Ronan’s over by the door, tugging on his jacket and watching him expectantly. Waiting. How long has he been waiting?

“C’mon, ghost boy, let’s go for a drive.”

Noah perks up, up on his feet without remembering moving to do so. “I love driving. I miss driving.” He trails Ronan out of the room and across Monmouth. “I used to drive all the time.”

“I know.”

“I had a mustang. Before. It was _gorgeous_.”

“I know.”

Noah slows, and then jolts forward to catch up. “Oh? Have I already told you that?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh,” Noah repeats, quieter, barely more than a breeze, feeling a little too light and heavy all at once. “Sorry.”

Ronan ruffles his hair, or tries to. He manages it, but when he tries to use it to bring Noah closer, his hand falls through him a little, just enough to make him stumble.

They watch each other for a long moment. Noah thinks, if he listens hard enough, he can hear the air shifting, the earth turning, and Ronan’s heart breaking.

“Get in,” Ronan says. “And if you, like, danny phantom out of the car, I’m not turning around for your spooky ass.”

Noah laughs.

**Author's Note:**

> Also over on my tumblr, come say hi!
> 
> http://akumastrife.tumblr.com/post/169557860071/while-we-can-roah-trc


End file.
